


All that Glittered (Nearly) Killed the Cat

by irritablevowel



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9327878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irritablevowel/pseuds/irritablevowel
Summary: The vet doesn't quite know how to handle the ditzy blonde with the white cat.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Antigone2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antigone2/gifts).



> Dedicated to Antigone2's cat, Ghibli.

“You’ve got a feline with a suspected linear foreign body in Exam Room 2, Dr. Hoshimoto,” the vet tech informed him.

Hoshimoto Shinichi had just finished a yearly check-up with an overly feisty Pomeranian (it’s always the little ones!) when the tech, Kimi, ambushed him in the break room as he tried to scarf down a sandwich between patients.

The veterinarian sighed. “Seriously? Another? That’s the fifth this week!”

“’Tis the season,” the tech replied as she pointed to the calendar, which featured a festive Bulldog with a Santa hat perched jauntily on its head.

Shinichi looked sadly at his half-eaten lunch before wrapping it back up and mournfully placing it back in the fridge.

“Guess it’s just going to be one of those days,” he muttered.

As he approached the now-occupied exam room, he could hear a man and woman loudly bickering inside. Before entering, he grabbed the worryingly thin patient case file off of the back of the door and knocked. Instantly the arguing stopped. As he entered the room, he was surprised to find that the only occupants were a young woman smiling the type of manic smile that usually accompanies nearly being caught red-handed at something, and her white cat, which just looked annoyed. (Not an uncommon sight at a vet’s office, to be fair.)

Dr. Hoshimoto eyed the room suspiciously, even going so far as to look behind the door.

“Is everything alright?” the woman asked with a frown.

“Oh, excuse me,” Shinichi replied politely as he turned back to the woman. “I could have sworn I heard a man in here with you.”

“Oh, hahahaha,” the woman tittered unnaturally. “I was just . . . on my phone!” She paused. “On speaker!”

“Of course,” Dr. Hoshimoto reasoned, “that makes sense.”

The woman relaxed, giving a more genuine smile as he sat down. He bit back a sigh as he opened the case file, revealing a single sheet of paper with little more than the cat’s name and the owner’s basic information on it.

“So,” he said, reading the information listed, “you’re Ms. Aino?”

“Minako, please,” she said as she crossed her legs, placing her hands on her knees.

“Minako, I’m Dr. Hoshimoto.” He inclined his head toward her politely.

“Nice to meet you,” Minako replied, nodding her head.

“I see that this is your first time with us,” he said, looking back at the case file.

“Yep.”

“Where have you been taking your cat for veterinary care before now?”

“Uh . . . well, Artemis doesn’t really get sick very often, so we don’t really have one.”

“I see,” Dr. Hoshimoto said, jotting down the information. “Has he ever been to a vet before?”

“Not a vet, no . . .” Minako replied, narrowing her eyes. “But sometimes if he’s not feeling well, my friend gives us advice—she’s really smart and wants to be a doctor. And you know what they say, ‘there’s more than one way to make a cat skinny!’”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, you don’t know that saying?”

“Did you mean, ‘there’s more than one way to skin a cat’?”

“What? No!” Minako sat back on the bench looking scandalized. “That’s terrible!”

“Right,” Shinichi replied dryly. “Can you tell me anything about the cat’s history?”

“History?” Minako said, her eyebrows rising in surprise as her gaze landed on the white cat beside her. “What do you mean . . . history?” she asked nervously. “What makes you think a simple cat, which this cat _definitely_ is, would have any kind of . . . history?”

“I just mean, how long have you had him, where did you get him, how old is he, those sorts of things.”

“Oh, of course!” Minako giggled nervously as she waved a hand through the air. “Well, let’s see . . . I guess he just kind of showed up one day about four years ago and I haven’t been able to get rid of him, so here we are.”

“Was he an adult when you found him?”

“Oh yeah, he’s definitely middle-aged,” she said, staring at the cat beside her, who was glaring back. (Also not an uncommon sight at a vet’s office.) “He’s probably like, I don’t know, forty-five or something.”

“Forty-five?” Dr. Hoshimoto said, his pen frozen over the file. “You do realize domestic cats rarely live to be over twenty years old?”

“Oh . . . well, whatever a middle-aged cat is, then.”

Dr. Hoshimoto returned to his file, jotting down _unknown; adult_ in the “Age” field.

“So, Minako,” the vet said with an almost-convincing smile, “what exactly brings you in today?”

“Well,” she began, “it’s like I told the lady who checked us in. My cat Artemis, he, uh . . .” She stopped and laughed nervously. “I asked my friend for help but she said I had to come to a real vet for this. You see . . .” She paused briefly before scooping up the cat and turning his back end toward Dr. Hoshimoto’s face, lifting the cat’s tail high in the air to reveal a very shiny string delicately extending from the cat’s nether-regions.

“Ah,” the vet said. “Tinsel?”

Minako nodded as she released the cat’s tail and set the humiliated feline back down on the bench beside her.

“I swear I don’t know how many times I’ve told him not to eat it, but he just keeps going back for more.”

“Well, you can’t really expect him to understand you,” the vet reasoned. “He’s just a cat, after all. He can’t really help it.”

“So true,” Minako said, patting the white cat on the head rather firmly. “I just don’t know what to do with this _dumb_ animal.” She pulled her hand back just as the cat twisted around to take a swipe at her, brandishing five sharp claws like deadly weapons. Minako merely stuck her tongue out at the grouchy animal. “Anyway, you know what they say, ‘curiosity dragged the cat in.’”

“Do you mean . . . um, never mind. Why don’t you go ahead and put him up on the exam table?” the vet suggested. She nodded, grabbing the cat and placing him on the metal table extending from one of the walls.

She sat back as the vet began examining Artemis, taking his temperature, looking in his mouth, and pressing on his abdomen.

“Your cat’s very lucky, Minako,” the vet said after the exam was over. “Often when a cat eats a linear foreign object—such as string or tinsel—it can wrap around the base of the tongue and get caught. It can also get tangled up in the stomach and cause the intestines to bunch up, and sometimes they can even cut through the stomach or intestines, but as far as I can tell, Artemis avoided all of these outcomes, which require immediate surgery.”

“Oh wow, thank goodness,” Minako replied. The cat looked at her, a relieved expression on his face. (OK, that’s a little unusual for a cat.)

“I’d like to take an X-ray, though, just to be sure.”

“Of course!”

“If the X-ray looks good, I’ll go ahead and try to remove the tinsel manually. Do you have any idea how many pieces he ate?”

“Uh . . .” Minako looked at her cat, who looked back at her with a blush. (Wait, can cat’s blush?) “There might be a few pieces in there. . . .” she replied.

“OK, guess we’ll find out!” he said, scooping the cat up.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Hoshimoto! You’re totally the cat’s purr!”

Shinichi stared at Minako for a second before sighing.

“What’s the matter,” she said with a smirk and a quirked eyebrow, “you got the cat’s tongue?”

This time it was the cat that groaned (definitely not normal), causing the vet to stare at the feline in his hands.

“Guess I’d better hurry up,” he said as he pulled open the door to the back treatment area. “Just make yourself comfortable; we might be a little while.”

“OK! Good luck, Artemis!” she told the stricken cat, who gave a pathetic meow in reply.

For the next hour, Minako kept herself occupied on social media, liveblogging Artemis’s plight across several platforms as the vet’s assistants notified her of any update’s to Artemis’s condition. The highlight, though, was texting with Usagi, who faithfully relayed Luna’s exasperated responses, much to the girls’ amusement.

Finally, Dr. Hoshimoto reappeared, cradling a wrung-out–looking Artemis in his arms. Minako quickly put her phone away and held out her hands to take the cat from him.

“Poor Artemis,” she said as she looked at the drugged-up cat. “Is he going to be OK?”

“Yep, everything is fine. I managed to get all of the tinsel—at least as far as I could tell. He’s been sedated, though, so he’ll be pretty groggy for a few hours.”

“Got it,” Minako replied. “Anything I need to do? Any medicine or anything?”

“He’ll need antibiotics for a few days but that’s it. You can get them from the front desk when you check out. Also, you’ll need to properly dispose of all of the tinsel at home so this doesn’t happen again.”

Minako sighed. “I suppose so, since he obviously has no self-control, and you know what they say . . .”

Dr. Hoshimoto braced himself. “What’s that?”

“When the cat’s away, the mice will play!”

Shinichi blinked several times in surprise. “You . . . yes, you’re right! That is what they say!”

“Um, yeah, I know,” the blonde said, rolling her eyes as she shrugged her purse strap over her shoulder, shifting the semi-lucid cat in her arms. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Dr. Hoshimoto. Thanks for everything!”

“You too, Minako,” he replied. “It’s been . . . something.”

Minako smiled at the vet as she pushed open the door, her golden hair gleaming in the sunshine of the waiting room as she flounced through the doorway, accidentally hitting Artemis’s head on the doorjamb.

“Sorry, Artemis! Good thing you have 10 lives,” he heard her tell the moaning cat as the door closed.

Shinichi shook his head as he headed back to the break room, his thoughts of the blonde girl and her white cat fading as the promise of his half-eaten sandwich beckoned him from the refrigerator.

“Dr. Hoshimoto,” Kimi said, appearing in the doorway of the break room just as Shinichi opened the fridge, “you’ve got a Chihuahua with a cracked toenail in Exam Room 3.”

Shinichi sighed, mournfully watching his sandwich disappear as he closed the fridge door. “I’ll be right there.”

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write a hostess gift for Antigone2 for coordinating our Sailor Moon OTP Secret Santa. Thanks for your dedication to the fandom, girl! xoxo


End file.
